Aquint drained it greedily, then held it out for Cat to refill from his waterskin, which the boy did. Aquint drank another half mug before pausing and heaving a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, lad. That helps."

Cat topped off the mug again, then restoppered the waterskin and sank smoothly back into his seated position. Aquint joined him, though he groaned slightly as he sat.

"Tell me, my young friend," he said as he ran a hand through his unkempt hair, "did we have a good time last night?"

Cat favored him with a level stare before his gaze returned to its normal pattern of scanning the immediate environs.

"I think you had enough fun for both of us."

The boy always had a proprietary, vaguely disapproving attitude toward the older man. Rather than being offended, Aquint found it amusing.

"That's right. You don't drink, do you?"

"I'm a thief," Cat said, bluntly. "A thief has to keep his wits about him more than a businessman ... or a soldier."

It was an old conversational argument between them. Stretching all the way back to the day they had first met.

Aquint had been running his freight-hauling business in Callah, with an unadvertised side in smuggling

and black marketeering, back in those not long ago days before the Felk had come and captured the city. A patrol of city constables had come into his warehouse in pursuit of a cutpurse who had eluded them in the crowds outside. Aquint had sworn to them that there was no one on the premises other than himself and an alley cat he kept around to chase vermin, blandly ignoring the quick glimpse he had caught of a young sinewy boy slipping through his door just ahead of the patrol. After the constables had moved on, Aquint had expected the lad to vanish back into the city streets and alleys. Instead, the boy had remained and become his inseparable shadow. When asked for a name, he had simply shrugged and said, "I'm your cat... just like you told the patrol." And Cat he had been ever since.

When Aquint went into the army, Cat had followed, though he was never actually officially enlisted. Whether the other soldiers thought of him as Aquint's son or bed partner, they kept their opinions to themselves, simply ignoring the boy as they did the other camp followers who traveled with the army in their southward sweep. That army had come out of the Isthmus's northernmost city-state, Felk. It had moved south, capturing Aquint's home of Callah, then the neighboring city of Windal... then farther on, to U'delph.

"For once, I'll have to agree with you, Cat," Aquint said, darkly, sipping at the water while he stared straight ahead. "It doesn't take much in the way of wits for a soldier to do what we did yesterday. In fact, the fewer wits, the better."

"Don't start again," Cat hissed, looking at him sternly. "You said more than enough last night. They don't like critical talk in this army."

"I'm sorry, but it makes me sick," Aquint insisted. "That wasn't a battle. By the madness of the gods, it was butchery."

"It's the job of the generals to make decisions and issue orders," Cat said.

"That pitiful garrison folded in a matter of two watches. After that, we could have accepted their surrender and claimed the city-state. There was no reason to go to the extremes that we did."

"It's the job of a soldier to follow those orders," Cat said. "That's how an army is run. If every soldier tried to make their own decisions and plans, it wouldn't just be ineffectual, it would be chaos."

"Are you saying you approve of what was done?" Aquint asked.

"I'm saying that my approval doesn't matter... and neither does yours. Even if you had been consulted about the battle plan—"

"Which I wasn't."

"—which you weren't, you would have been overruled. You couldn't change it then, and you certainly can't change it now that it's over. All your complaints and criticisms can do now is put you in jeopardy if you insist on voicing them."

Aquint drew a deep breath and blew it out. The lad was articulate for a thief who'd haunted Callah's streets and alleys.

"All right," Aquint said. "You've made your point. I'll try to keep my mouth shut."

"It may be a little late now," Cat said. "You mouthed off last night enough to get arrested for treason. I only hope you satisfied Sonya."

"Sonya?"

Cat favored him with another prolonged stare.

"The little corporal from Third Squad," he said. "The one with the muscles and the bad teeth. She was your companion there under the bushes last night."

Aquint winced as the vague memory struggled to surface in his still befuddled mind.

"Bugger. I must have been really drunk," he said. "I've been dodging that one for weeks now."

"Count yourself as lucky." Cat shrugged. "If she hadn't been so eager to get into your pants, she could have reported you for what you were saying."

"Well, I'll try to watch it in the future," Aquint said. "Bedding Sonya is too high a price to pay for the privilege of shooting off my mouth."

"I'd hold any plans for the future for a while, if I were you," Cat said softly.

Frowning, Aquint followed the youth's gaze.

There were three of them. A lieutenant and two guards. They were at the squad campfire speaking to

his sergeant. As he watched, the sergeant looked around, then pointed directly to where he and Cat were sitting.

As the trio approached, Aquint briefly considered running, but discarded the notion. He was in the middle of an army encampment. There was no place to run to. Instead, he rose to his feet and saluted as the group came to a halt in front of him.

"Is your name Aquint?" the officer said.

"Yes, sir."

"You will come with me. Now."

With that the lieutenant turned on his heel and strode off, leaving Aquint little choice but to follow behind. As he did, he noticed the two guards were now positioned on either side and behind him. Cat had faded from sight as the contingent had approached, but Aquint had little doubt that he was watching from somewhere else.

Aquint wondered for a moment what would happen to Cat if he, Aquint, were imprisoned or executed, but shrugged it off, turning his mind instead to his own predicament.

Actually, he wasn't all that worried. This was far from the first time in his life that he had been hauled in front of the authorities, and so far his wit and glibness of tongue had saved him from any serious consequences. If this was about his comments of the previous evening, he would simply claim to have been drunk and to have no recollection of having said anything that could be taken as treasonable. If cross-examined, he would have no difficulty claiming support and loyalty to the army and its policies. Except...

Aquint blinked as a sudden realization struck him. Except that a part of him wanted to be punished. Maybe that was why he had allowed himself to voice his criticisms in front of so many people last night. What was more, it wasn't just the guilt of having participated in the destruction of Udelph.

He had made a suggestion, an observation, really. A forced quick march, leaving the supply wagons behind, would allow them to attack U'delph days earlier than if they stuck to the tradition of moving the army in its entirety as they had been doing since Callah, he had said. Hit them fast, before they had a chance to consolidate their defenses, and the city-state could be taken with the least possible losses on both sides.

A mere watch after he'd made this comment the army had halted and the various unit commanders had announced that the portals would be used to transport the troops the remainder of the distance to U'delph.

It was, in effect, a variation on his own plan. He couldn't help but wonder, in some irrational corner of his mind, if his suggestion had been passed up the line. What he had envisioned came to pass, except... he hadn't known the decision had already been made to make an example of U'delph.